Being a rising star in the crime arena brought Frank into the law enforcement spotlight. He recalls that the notoriety was an annoyance, and carried a financial cost as well. At least once a week he’d be pulled over and questioned. Sometimes he was held in the lockup overnight, other times they’d keep him for forty-eight hours. After a while he got tired of it. He found that nine out of ten times he could bribe the cops. He believed that in most cases that was all they were looking for anyway, a little extra cash. Usually fifty or a hundred bucks would work. Sometimes, if he was short on money or just didn’t feel like paying, he’d give them the dodge. But then he’d have to keep out of that jurisdiction for a few days, and the cops wanted more money when they caught up with him.
During one arrest Frank was in a particularly defiant mood and refused to have his mug shot taken. He told the officers to go fuck themselves, pulled his pants down and mooned them. Reinforcements were called in and Frank was handcuffed and punched around. And then they told him he was going to the lockup until he let them take a picture. They said if they had to frame him for something to hold him on, they would. They got their mug shot.
Some of the cops, especially the detectives, liked to play hard ball. Frank always figured the ones that gave you a beating while they had you cuffed were cowards. He didn’t have much respect for them and would challenge them to take the cuffs off him and see how tough they were. He felt it was the ones that didn’t rough you up that you had to watch out for; they were the dangerous ones.